


Desiderium

by Cinnamongirl



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Background Iron Bull/Female Lavellan, Bittersweet Ending, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Survivor Guilt, it's not a super angsty ending but i wouldn't call it happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 13:45:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12654717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamongirl/pseuds/Cinnamongirl
Summary: “Dorian, this is Garrett Hawke: Champion of Kirkwall. You’ll like him. Can you look after him for a bit while I stop Cassandra from killing Varric? Thanks!"





	Desiderium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [accidental](https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidental/gifts).



> Thanks to [dreadwolftakeme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadwolftakeme/pseuds/dreadwolftakeme) for looking at this for me. Go read her stuff!

Dorian was contemplating whether to order another drink or just head back to the main part of the castle when Lavellan suddenly appeared in front of him, dragging a man behind her. The man was more than a head taller than her but he evidently didn’t dare try to pull away.

She gestured to Dorian. “Hawke, this is Dorian Pavus: Tevinter mage but _not_ a magister.” 

Now that she mentioned it, the man did look remarkably like the Champion described in Varric’s book. He had the distinctive red birthmark across his nose, framed by bright amber eyes and dark hair with a full beard. He was wearing complicated-looking armor that nicely suited his broad shoulders. Dorian bowed at him. Hawke glanced back and forth between Dorian and Lavellan, looking increasingly confused.

“Dorian, this is Garrett Hawke: Champion of Kirkwall. You’ll like him. Can you look after him for a bit while I stop Cassandra from killing Varric? Thanks!” She dashed off before either of them could respond.

Hawke looked even more confused, but he recovered quickly. “Well, Lord Pavus, if you’re going to the trouble of looking after me, the least I can do is buy you a drink.”

The evening had just gotten interesting. “Far be it from me to turn down such an enticing offer. I’ve have whatever you’re drinking and please, call me Dorian.” 

His beard twitched when he smiled. “In that case, you can call me Garrett.” 

 

Garrett returned from the bar carrying two glasses. “I hope you aren’t averse to terrible Fereldan beer,” he said.

“Oh, not at all.”

He watched Garrett take a sip, wince, and then down half of his glass. “Oh, that’s awful. Tastes like home.” 

Dorian laughed softly. “I’d forgotten that the Champion of Kirkwall was originally from Ferelden.”

“Not only that, I grew up on a farm in the middle of nowhere in Ferelden. People keep telling me that they can’t picture it and I can never tell if that’s a compliment or not.”

“It is, I assure you.”

Garrett shrugged and took another drink.

 

It wasn’t long before Dorian noticed that Garrett was eying his body, and not even trying to be subtle about it. Tonight certainly _was_ going to be interesting. He shifted in his chair to sit at a more flattering angle.

Garrett grinned at being caught but he didn’t look away. “You know, Dorian,” he said, “you’re the first person I’ve met so far in Skyhold who doesn’t make me feel overdressed.”

Dorian nodded appraisingly at Garrett’s armor. “A man after my own heart. There’s no reason why armor can’t be distinctive and functional at the same time.” 

“Right? You know, I actually hadn’t worn this since Kirkwall but Varric talked me into it. He said it was ‘iconic.’” Garrett’s impression of Varric’s accent was actually very good. “I felt ridiculous when the Herald showed up to our meeting in her pajamas.”

“Don’t take it personally. The Inquisitor is an inspired leader and a close friend of mine, but she almost goes out of her way to be unfashionable. I’d say that it’s an elf thing except that her partner’s dress sense is even worse.”

“Oh, the Inquisitor’s infamous Qunari lover? I’ve heard of him. Do you think it’s going to be an issue that I killed their Arishok?”

“Likely not. He isn’t actually Qunari anymore.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Good to know.” He paused to drink. “So, if you’re _not_ a magister, does that mean you’re apprenticed to one?”

“I was, but it ended poorly.”

Garrett nodded again, and thankfully didn’t push the issue further.

 

They lapsed into silence after that. It wasn’t quite uncomfortable, but Dorian searched his mind trying to think of something they could talk about, other than the fact that Garrett seemed to appreciate watching Dorian’s mouth when he drank. From what he remembered, the Champion had been a mage. Would he be interested in talking about magic? Southerners seemed to get strangely defensive when the topic was brought up but it had to be better than talking about the weather. 

He was distracted from his thoughts when Cassandra suddenly burst into the tavern. She craned her neck, trying to look around the room. “Varric isn’t here,” said Dorian at the same time that Garrett said “I swear I have no idea where Anders is.”

“Anders?” Cassandra looked at him curiously. “The apostate from Kirkwall? Isn’t he dead? Varric said that you killed him yourself.”

“Yes, that’s exactly right. I meant that I have no idea where his body ended up.” 

Cassandra shook her head and walked away.

“Your subtlety amazes me.” Dorian said drily.

Garrett rolled his eyes. “I hope the Inquisitor can successfully mediate between those two. If anyone can, it seems like she can do it.”

“Her role isn’t dissimilar to what you did back in Kirkwall, come to think of it.”

“What, closing rifts? I didn’t do very much of that.”

Dorian gave a _very_ dignified snort. “Traveling around, righting wrongs, stopping your friends from killing each other- Varric made it sound like you had a lot of talent for that last one in particular.”

“Inquisitor Lavellan is the savior of almost half of Thedas. I spent years micromanaging a single city-state and it still almost burned to the ground twice.”

“Yes, well. I think I can understand that, at least. How about I get the next round?” He stood up without waiting for a response and Garrett didn’t try to stop him.

 

When he got back, Garrett was still looking at him like he wanted to tear his clothes off but he launched into telling an embarrassing story about Cullen that, while entertaining, was entirely chaste. Dorian realized that he would have to try harder.

He started by touching him, a brief brush of his fingers over the back of Garrett’s hand where it lay on the table. It was too slow to be accidental but too fast to be obvious to anyone else who was watching. Garrett inhaled sharply and forgot to close his mouth afterward. Dorian just smiled in response.

He blinked. “Er, what was I saying?”

“You were telling me about the last time you were in Orlais.”

“Ah, yes! So, there was this duke…”

It wasn’t long afterward that Dorian leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. Garrett copied him, possibly even unconsciously. Their faces were inches away from each other. Surely, Garrett would be forced to either reject him or continue this somewhere more private. Dorian trailed a hand against the side of Garrett’s face and he responded by leaning into the touch.

“…and then Varric said…uh…” he trailed off.

“Your beard is softer than I expected.” 

“It’s a special blend of oils. I could give you some, if you’d like?” He looked like he was seconds away from kissing Dorian but he didn’t move.

“How generous of you.”

Garrett’s face fell when Dorian finally pulled his hand away, but again, he didn’t say or do anything to further the situation. _What was the man playing at?_ His body language, tone of voice, _everything_ seemed to suggest that he was very much interested but he clearly wasn’t going to do anything about it. Perhaps the rumors were true, and he had a lover waiting for him back home? Varric’s book hadn’t mentioned that Garrett was involved with anyone, but it had also claimed that Anders was dead.

It was getting late enough that they were soon going to be either too drunk or too tired to do anything interesting, and subtlety wasn’t going anywhere so Dorian would have to be blatant about it. “Forgive me if I’m misinterpreting here, but would you like to join me in my quarters?”

The bastard had the audacity to look _surprised_ , as if they hadn’t been leading up to this for at least the last half hour. “Oh! I didn’t think you would want to- Yes, I would love that!” he said too loudly, before immediately getting up to follow Dorian outside, just in case there was anyone left who didn’t know what they were about to do. Dorian didn’t even care at this point, except out of habit—it’s not like being associated with a celebrity here in the South would make his reputation any _worse_ —but he’d expected the Champion to have more of a sense of self-preservation.

 

All irritation was gone once they were undressed. Garrett was distractingly tall, for one thing, and very nicely muscular. It was actually much easier to imagine him as a Fereldan farmer like this. (Did all farmers spend a lot of time naked? Unlikely, but it was an interesting thought.)

Garrett was chivalrous, too. He was gentle and courteous and he made sure to not touch Dorian in any way that was unwelcome until Dorian pointed out that he could stand to be _slightly_ more rough, at which point Garrett demonstrated that the muscles weren’t just for show and it was actually very easy for him to pin Dorian against the bed and have his way with him. He was even thoughtful enough to make sure that Dorian finished first before coming almost immediately afterward, as if he’d been waiting for him. Garrett kissed him and wished him a good night on his way out the door, which was a refreshing change from men who tried to pretend that Dorian didn’t exist anymore once they’d gotten off.

If he had one complaint, it would be that Garrett had been trying too hard to show his enjoyment, moaning and almost shaking with neediness every time he touched Dorian. It was flattering to be with someone so responsive but Garrett was overdoing it. All in all, it wasn’t quite the best sex that Dorian had ever had but it was far from the worst, and it was a shame that Garrett would undoubtedly be leaving Skyhold soon and they would never see each other again. At least there wouldn’t be any awkwardness this way.

* * *

As it turned out, they did see each other again and it was _very_ awkward. 

 

Dorian winced internally when Lavellan asked him to come along on the mission to make contact with “Hawke’s Warden friend” and he only barely managed to keep from visibly shuddering when he saw that Garrett was already waiting at the Skyhold gates. It wasn’t that he didn’t look forward to spending more time in Garrett’s company, but there is a certain amount of diplomacy and delicate maneuvering involved when one is publicly seen in the company of someone more famous and more popular than oneself whom one has recently bedded, and he wasn’t sufficiently prepared to handle all of that and sleep in a tent at the same time.

Garrett had been in the middle of an animated conversation with the Iron Bull when he noticed Dorian. He did a very obvious double-take and called out “Oh, hi Dorian!”, looking entirely too excited. Dorian pretended not to notice that the Bull was laughing at them.

Garrett wouldn’t stop glancing over at him while they were waiting for the rest of the group to be ready. It took all of the self-control Dorian had not to wince. They were interrupted when Cole appeared in front of Garrett, who jumped back and then looked around at everyone else, probably wondering why nobody else looked shocked. “I’m Cole,” he said to Garrett. “I’ll let you remember me now because we’re going to be fighting together.”

“He’s a Fade spirit and a reformed serial killer,” Lavellan explained, also suddenly appearing from nowhere.

“It’s, uh, a pleasure to meet you.”

Cole frowned at his feet. “Damn it Cole, do NOT start speaking my thoughts out loud right now.” He looked up, as much as he could with his hat in the way. “He’d rather hear it from you.” Cole disappeared again.

“Well, that’s as good a send-off as any. Is everyone ready to go?”

 

Several minutes later, Garrett still wouldn’t stop shooting Dorian increasingly-unsubtle glances. It was almost insulting, really; did he honestly think that Dorian couldn’t keep his mouth shut?

He realized that Lavellan and Bull were scouting up ahead and Cole was still invisible, so he and Garrett were essentially alone together. As if Garrett had realized the same thing, he moved closer so that they were standing next to each other. Dorian mentally prepared a speech to assure him that he would never tell anyone what had happened and that he would be the picture of discretion about the whole business when Garrett asked “Are neither of them wearing a shirt?”

“…What?”

He gestured up ahead.

“Oh, yes. Unfortunately not.” Bull was wearing ridiculous striped pants and a harness, but no shirt. Lavellan had on some kind of skirt made of furs while her top half was covered in body paint and almost nothing else.

“They’re… some kind of shirtless power couple? Is that their thing? I mean, they obviously don’t have any self-respect, but you’d think they would at least be concerned about the cold.”

“You really need to meet Lady Vivienne some time, provided that you only talk about fashion and stay away from anything related to the Southern Circles.”

“That reminds me, the Inquisitor’s staff: is it-”

“Yes, that’s a real skull, but no, she didn’t kill the poor bastard whose head it once sat in. She merely killed the staff’s original owner and stole it from _his_ corpse.”

“I see.”

Garrett looked at him meaningfully again. With a glance forward to make sure that nobody was paying attention, Dorian moved closer to Garrett and put an arm on his shoulder to slow him. “I’m not going to tell anyone,” he said quietly. 

“Tell anyone what?”

“Exactly.” 

The matter resolved, Dorian started to move an appropriate distance away. Garrett grabbed Dorian (and _fuck_ , he’d forgotten how strong the man was) and pulled him back. “What are you talking about?” he whispered.

“I haven’t told anybody about us and I don’t intend to.”

“Why not?” This conversation was getting more and more confusing.

“Aren’t you concerned about what being associated with me would do to your reputation?”

“Should I be? Wait, are you saying that you don’t want _me_ to tell anybody?”

Dorian had no idea how to respond to that, so he said “I’d prefer it if you didn’t let the Inquisitor find out. She’s going to be insufferable when she realizes that she was right about me, well, liking you. She seems to think that all the time spent sitting on the Iron Bull’s lap has given her some kind of special Ben-Hassrath abilities by proximity.”

“What else do you expect me to do while I’m sitting there?” Lavellan yelled back. Dorian cringed. _So much for discretion._ “And no, it’s not an elf thing! You guys are just loud.”

 

It was fascinating to watch Garrett in combat. He was obviously talented and he had an interesting style, similar to what Dorian had seen of the Southern mages but with some idiosyncrasies that he hadn’t seen anywhere else. Despite his insistence that his experience in Kirkwall wasn’t related, it was evident that he was used to fighting in a diverse group and adapting quickly to unexpected situations.

 

The Warden friend was revealed to be a man named Stroud whose mustache was larger than Dorian’s, but not nearly as fashionable. Dorian had spent enough time around frivolous Orlesians that it was a surprise to meet one who was so serious and practical. Stroud seemed to be by all accounts a good man and he fit in with the Inquisitor’s group easily.

 

Once they were back at Skyhold, Dorian had enough time to get cleaned up and change his clothes before there was a knock at his door. When he answered, Garrett was standing there, looking recently-bathed and slightly embarrassed. Dorian gestured for him to come inside and he shut the door behind them.

There was a moment where Garrett looked at him intently. Whatever he saw in Dorian’s expression must have been what he was looking for because he surged forward to shove Dorian up against the door and kiss him enthusiastically. He pulled back after a moment. “Is this-” he started to ask but Dorian pulled his face back down to kiss him again. Garrett moaned into his mouth and Dorian actually felt his knees go weak but Garrett was there to hold him with very strong arms, pinning him in place and somehow making him feel safer. Maker, he could get used to this.

The sex itself was even better than the first time. The frantic edge and unusual responsiveness were still there but Garrett at least had the decency to be more subtle about it. Once again, he got the distinct impression that Garrett was desperate for him but he was also trying to make it as good for him as possible and it was doing terrible things for his ego.

It wasn’t until after Garrett left that it occurred to Dorian that this was a very bad idea. Delightful sex with famous Southerners was all very well and good, but Dorian knew himself too well. Garrett was not only talented and kind and handsome but also very good in bed, which was a dangerous combination that Dorian had a long and embarrassing record of being unable to resist.

* * *

The less said about the trip to the Western Approach, the better. 

Everyone kept glancing nervously at Dorian during the encounter with the Venatori. He wasn’t sure whether they were hoping that he would have some kind of special insight into the Tevinter mind or fearing that he would suddenly turn on them. 

What’s worse, Dorian had the misfortune of being assigned to a tent with both Stroud and Sera. Stroud snored loudly, but at least he was respectful about sharing the limited space and he was even willing to exchange mustache grooming tips. Sera, on the other hand, was considerably smaller than most of the other people that Lavellan traveled with but she somehow managed to take up more room while she was sleeping than anyone else did.

The admittedly hilarious expression on Garrett’s face when Lavellan announced the next morning that he was definitely among her Top Five Easiest People To Sleep Next To did little to improve Dorian’s mood. 

Garrett still wouldn’t stop glancing at him meaningfully, to the point that even Stroud had noticed. Dorian remembered thinking about how he had a bad habit of falling too hard for men like Garrett and he realized that it wasn’t true. He’d never met anyone quite like him.

* * *

Shortly after they’d arrived back at Skyhold, Lavellan announced that Dorian would not be part of the team she was taking to the Emprise du Lion to do some kind of errand for Cullen. The castle had never seemed so warm or comfortable as it did at that moment. 

 

Dorian was in the middle of some research when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He glanced up to see who it was and was surprised to see Garrett, who looked equally surprised that Dorian was there. “Should’ve known I would find you in the library,” Garrett said with a smile. 

“What brings you up here?” He couldn’t stop himself from remembering their last reunion but he didn’t want to presume.

“I was talking with… I think his name was Solas?” Garrett gestured downstairs. “Interesting man. He said that he’d read _Tale of the Champion_ and he seemed impressed by me, for some reason. Has he told you about any of his stories about the things he saw in the Fade?”

“Solas likes you?” Dorian mouthed incredulously, trying to be silent. “He doesn’t like _anybody_.”

Garrett just shrugged.

Dorian glanced nervously downstairs and decided to change the subject. “I’ve been meaning to ask, where did you learn magic? From what I understand, you never spent time in one of those southern Circles.”

“My father taught me. He used to be in the Circle, but he escaped before I was born. Spent the rest of his life trying to keep me and my sister free.”

“I hear that’s not easy, getting away from the Templars. He sounds like a remarkable man.”

Garrett smiled sadly. “Father was the first one in my family to die and his death was definitely the hardest. It’s still difficult, honestly. Sometimes it felt like he was the only person in the world who was always on my side.” Garrett cringed, suddenly embarrassed at his own confession.

“That sounds wonderful. I’m sorry for your loss.”

The look of relief on his face was heartbreaking. “Thank you.”

 

They fucked again that night, and the next night, and at some point it turned into a semi-regular _thing_. 

They read books together and drank wine and walked the grounds of the castle, giving Dorian the opportunity to show off all of the secret rooms and hidden passageways that he’d discovered. They were evenly matched at chess but Garrett thoroughly destroyed him when they played Wicked Grace. It turned out that he actually was capable of being subtle when he wanted to. He made it up for it by teaching Dorian how to recognize all of Varric’s tells. 

Garrett listened with rapt attention while Dorian told him about his research on time magic. Dorian tried not to laugh too hard when Garrett told him the story of his incredibly awkward reunion with Cullen. He was quietly relieved when they received word that Lavellan’s party would return much later than expected because they had found three dragons and she refused to leave without fighting all of them.

He found himself thinking about Garrett when they weren’t together, and even craving his company. He’d been down this path before and no matter how many times he tried to convince himself that it was different this time and he wasn’t getting attached, he knew that it would hurt badly when Garrett inevitably got tired of him. He tried to ignore the fact that the only thing keeping him from ending it here and now was the knowledge that it would be even more painful.

 

Dorian was astounded to learn that Garrett had never used magic in bed. “What do you mean, you never thought to try it? I thought that was something that we all did as teenagers.”

“The only other mages I knew were related to me.”

“Ah, yes. I’d forgotten about that. In that case, you might want to get something ready to write on because I have a lot to teach you.”

 

Neither of them said anything when Garrett started spending the night in Dorian’s room. The first time, it was late and they were both exhausted and Garrett was lingering too long in getting dressed when Dorian wordlessly pulled him back into bed. He’d intended for him to only stay a few minutes longer but Garrett was still there when he woke up in the middle of the night. Dorian staunchly refused to think about the significance of this. Instead, he pulled the blankets over both of them and listened to the sound of Garrett breathing until he fell back to sleep.

They didn’t say anything about it the next time, either. Garrett didn’t leave and Dorian didn’t tell him to leave and well, everybody else seemed to know about them and nobody really cared. It didn’t hurt that Garrett was indeed a very good bed partner. Dorian still sometimes experienced the panicked feeling that he was in over his head, but he’d gotten used to ignoring it.

 

On the night before they were scheduled to go to Adamant, Garrett was as warm and comfortable as always but Dorian was still wide awake after what had to be an hour spent curled up next to him. He finally gave up and fished around for a book to read, trying to be quiet in case Garrett had managed to fall asleep.

“Do you have any that I can borrow?” Apparently his luck wasn’t any better.

“By all means,” Dorian gestured to the pile of books next to his bed. Garrett immediately selected a highly controversial book about experimental magic, which was really a perfect example of why it was so difficult not to get attached to him.

They read in comfortable silence for quite a long time until-

“Dorian, are you still awake?”

“Unfortunately.”

Garrett rolled over to look at him, then stared at the ceiling. “Did I ever tell you that you were the first person I’d slept with in seven years?”

If he hadn’t been awake before, that would have done it. “No, I’m fairly sure you hadn’t. What brought this on?”

“Just thinking.”

Dorian set the book down and propped his head up on his elbow. “One would assume that you would have been more difficult to seduce, in that case. I can’t possibly have been the first person in seven years to proposition you in a bar.”

“It’s a long story.” Garrett didn’t look uncomfortable, exactly, but there was more tension in his body than there had been a moment ago.

“It’s evidently going to be a long night.”

“Good point.” Garrett rolled onto his back. “I was pretty shameless when I was younger. I’d go to bed with almost anyone who would have me, but then the Blight hit and we moved to Kirkwall and everything was different. I was still mourning Father when my sister died, and then my brother and I were constantly working so there was never any time or privacy. I hardly even thought about sex for the first few years.” He paused long enough to sigh and stare at the ceiling. “I visited the brothel in Kirkwall once, after I’d finished healing from the fight with the Arishok. I had all this money and free time and I was so alone… I thought getting laid would be what I needed but it was mostly just awkward. Not that it wasn’t excellent- I more than got my money’s worth.” Garrett flashed an embarrassed grin that made Dorian feel oddly jealous. “That was the last time until I met you. Honestly, I think I didn’t get involved with anybody because I was waiting to die. I tried _so fucking hard_ to be the hero that Kirkwall needed but I just kept failing and everything was getting worse around me. Toward the end, most of my family was dead and I was absolutely convinced that it was my turn next so I was just focused on trying to help as many people as possible before it happened. Then, suddenly, the Knight-Commander was dead and I was alive and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’ve more-or-less been on the run ever since then.” Garrett looked deeply uncomfortable, as if he’d suddenly realized that his confession had ended up somewhere very different than he’d intended.

“That still doesn’t explain why you decided to go to bed with _me_ ,” said Dorian, because he apparently couldn’t stop making everything about himself for once in his fucking life.

“I don’t have a good answer for that. It’s not like I made a conscious decision to be celibate for years; it just never seemed like the right time or the right person. I’m honestly not sure what I was waiting for but when I met you, I knew that I didn’t want to wait anymore.”

 _You’d better not ruin this,_ he told himself firmly. He finally said “You flatter me, and I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re still alive.” Dorian couldn’t think of anything better, so he turned so that he was facing Garrett. He embraced him and leaned forward to kiss the side of his neck. Garrett put an arm around him in return, and they lay there holding each other until morning.

 

If Dorian had been forced to choose how he wanted to die, “killed by a demon while physically in the Fade” probably wouldn’t have made the list, but he had to admit that it was certainly a creative way to go. Felix had always said that he was too dramatic for his own good.

His musing was interrupted by Lavellan, who appeared next to him and dragged him by the collar of his shirt until they were standing behind an ominous-looking statue. “Wh-”

“Quiet!” she hissed.

“What are you doing?” he hissed back, quietly.

Lavellan rolled her eyes. “Talk to him.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You know, I almost brought Solas along today. I could have had an actual Fade expert stuck in the Fade with me, but instead I brought you so that you’d have a chance to work things out with Hawke over there,” she jerked her head down the path, where Garrett was presumably still arguing with Stroud, “and now Solas is going to be disappointed and I’ll probably end up buying him some more paints to apologize. That shit is _expensive_ , Dorian.”

“One would think that you’d save money by not wearing shirts.”

“Talk. To. Him.”

“You were gone for over a month. What makes you think that we haven’t been talking?”

“The two of you keep glancing at each other and looking sad. If you were refusing to look at each other that would mean that you’d already had the uncomfortable conversation, but the glancing means that there are still things unsaid.”

“You do understand that you aren’t actually Ben-Hassrath, right?”

“Obviously, they don’t let mages-”

“There you are! I was worried you two had been eaten by a demon.”

“Garrett, how wonderful to see you! Shall we go investigate those glowing green rocks?” Dorian steered him away from Lavellan, who was still saying “Talk to him!” behind them.

 

Garrett didn’t even flinch when the Nightmare demon taunted him. Dorian realized that it was because it couldn’t say anything that he hadn’t already been saying to himself for years.

 

It seemed inevitable that Garrett would immediately offer to stay behind so that everyone else could escape. Dorian tried to catch his eye but he wouldn’t look at him. He just stared at the ground, looking resigned. Dorian’s mind was screaming at him to stop him from doing this, to make Lavellan stop him somehow, but-

“Stroud,” she said.

The Warden nodded and turned toward the monster, raising his sword in anticipation. Garrett just stood there looking surprised. Everyone else was leaving and they didn’t have time for this. Dorian grabbed Garrett’s hand and pulled him hard and they stumbled out of the Fade.

 

Garrett didn’t let go of his hand while they watched Lavellan address the Wardens. An entire army of well-armed soldiers cowered before the tiny woman covered in demon viscera and what was left of her body paint as she announced that one of their leaders was dead and they were all exiled from Orlais, effective immediately. 

“I have to go with them,” Garrett said. He was still holding Dorian’s hand.

And it didn’t matter in the end, did it? Dorian had been planning to go back to Tevinter anyway so it didn’t really matter that Garrett was leaving now or that they’d never had the conversation that Lavellan seemed to think they should have-

“It’s probably for the best, you know?” Garrett smiled sadly. He looked a little bit embarrassed. “If I’d stayed any longer, I probably would have fallen in love with you.”

Dorian’s body felt too hot and too cold at the same time, and how was it possible for this man to make him so tongue-tied when he’d been notorious for his glibness and charisma in at least three different countries? 

Shit, Garrett was wincing like he’d been rejected. He _really_ needed to say something sincere yet charming, but he wasn’t at all prepared for this. It would take at least a few weeks and quite a lot of wine to figure out how he felt and even longer to make himself say it out loud, but he didn’t _have_ any of that right now.

He lifted Garrett’s hand and clasped it between both of his own, like it was something precious. He had a sudden and ridiculous thought that he was holding Garrett’s hand gently because Garrett held Dorian’s proverbial heart in his palm, but that was surely the wrong thing to say. “You’ll write to me, won’t you?” he finally blurted. “And let me know if you’re ever in Minrathous; I’d love to show you around.” Before he could change his mind, he leaned forward to kiss him. It was a short, nearly-chaste kiss, and he tried to convince himself that no one was paying attention. 

Afterward, he forced himself to look at Garrett instead of checking to see who had noticed.

Garrett’s expression was warm again, and Dorian thought that maybe he had managed to be sincere yet charming after all. “Thank you, Dorian. I’ll make sure to do that.”


End file.
